To Tempt Fate
by marlasinner
Summary: Xena and Borias continue their journey as unbeatable warlords, only to be jeopardized by the God Of War himself's desires.


A crescent moon seemed to spin in the sky with the growing winds of the winter evening. There was a cooling numbness to the air that let those who walked among it know that the lady of the night was dancing. Xena walked through her men enjoying the crisp breeze, along with the palpable heat of bodies, she was even comforted by the familiar stench of war and sweat.

Tonight was a joyous night. The men drank and sung as they reaped their rewards; that of the city's maidens taken after the sacking. Xena was tempted to pick one for herself but found little comfort nor excitement in the idea. It was uncommon she did not indulge herself, a fact which interested Borias as she rejoined him in their tent.

"None pretty enough for you?" he smirked from the desk in the corner.

Xena immediately dropped onto the furs in the centre of their nest, finally allowing her body to register the drain of the day. The battle had tired her and she felt an ache in her lower spine.

"I couldn't be bothered," she rolled onto her right side and clutched the injury. "The bastard only got one in, but it was good I'll give him that."

"Here."

Borias stood and eyed her as he neared, kneeling over and placing a hand on her back, the other on her stomach to stable it. For all the suffering her lover could inflict on others, he had the gentleness of an innocent child nurturing a stuffed animal. She didn't dare alert him to the likeness or she feared he would lose it with a hurt ego. But, by the Gods, he could be bad when he wanted to - or when _she_ wanted him to.

"Lower," Xena purred as he started massaging beautifully to the contours of her muscles. She grinned, he knew them well enough.

Borias' hands obliged and Xena soon felt herself drifting slowly to sleep. A slow creep away let her know that Borias would not be missing out on the fun and she heard the tent curtain rise and fall back into place. She continued into her dreams, slowly creating a long passageway with candlelit stone walls. Xena stepped off-path and touched the wall. It felt so real but she knew she was dreaming, though she could not remember the last time she had lucidly dreamed.

Suddenly, a shadow flickered across the walls, ripping Xena out of her daze as she whipped around herself in search of the source. Her eyes immediately hit centre and she saw a light at the end of the passage.

She trailed hesitantly, cautious of her surroundings and listening hard. What could be occurring without her knowledge in her own dream? Surely Hypnos had no reason to intervene. Xena had pissed off a lot of people, immortals even, but she quite enjoyed sleep after a long day and felt no need to ever have pestered the God of it.

The air seemed to shift as a presence entered her sensory vision. It was one she had felt before and yet it oozed unease. She was not certain as to the intentions of it but continued along the path nonetheless, meeting a heavy wooden door at the end of the hallway. It had a sword etched into the centre and was painted with gold, the sharp point facing her feet. As she lifted her hand to touch it, the door opened to a large stone room encased in shadows. It was lit by a single torch placed over what looked like a throne and a candle that had suddenly entered her raised hand.

"Careful," a deep and commanding voice drew her attention. A figure sat upon the thrown with a leg hitched over one arm of the stone seat. "Wax can be painful."

Xena stepped forward, causing a drop of wax to slip from the candle's mantle and settle on her thumb knuckle. She winced and threw it aside.

"Tsk, tsk. What did I tell you?"

"Who are you?" She lurched forward at a good pace, squinting at the dark silhouette.

"Stop," the voice fumbled slightly and the man stood, taking a step forward himself.

Xena stopped hesitantly.

"Perfect," came a whisper. Immediately, as if to appear, the figure was behind her, his mouth to her ear and his strong arms holding her at the waist. "You're a good listener, my Warrior Princess."

"You're not," she was immediately on edge by the touch. This along with his strong presence was almost too much, but she did not let on. "I asked who you were."

"Don't you know me?"

"Would I have asked?"

The voice chuckled low and heartily, moving one hand lower and further forward until it felt the front of her skirt was out of the way. Xena clenched her body as the hand honed in on her wet sex. She hadn't even realised how turned on she was.

"I think you'd like to know me."

Xena awoke with a gasp of air and sat up. Her mind was a buzzing and the touch of the man seemed to linger, as if his hand was still on her, rubbing her. After gathering her breath she brought a hand down to examine herself. By the Gods. Who was this man? How did he...?

These days it seemed like the roughest sex couldn't get her off, but Xena had come undone alone in her bed without lifting a single finger. It was magic.


End file.
